You're Still Here
by lazily-here
Summary: After all the tragic events that had taken place, the utter failure that was their most recent mission and the deaths of Levi's squad, he seeks comfort in the one person who always was and always should be his constant in this life of death and uncertainty.


**A/N: Another drabble request from tumblr! This story is posted in the LeviHan tag there under my blog url (given in my FFnet profile) as well as under my AO3 account (also given in my FFnet profile). And to those following my other story, don't worry, I mean I've been busy with beta-reading requests and homework and all that, but I'm going to try my best to get the third chapter up sometime this week. I was just given this idea and I had to write it out. So, in the meantime, have this as some sort of compensation!**

_What a long day._

_No,_ Hanji decided internally, pausing as she wriggled out of her maneuver gear. _What a long month._

In her reflections, the brunette found herself feeling drained, as if someone poked a hose into her arm and just sapped away at all of her lifeblood and energy. She was too spent to consider her usual pre-bedtime activities - pouring over a book or muttering on about her experiments. It was too much to ask of herself, for her mental as well as emotional states.

Even though she'd be getting two new captured titans in the near future, she didn't want to contemplate them. They were fascinating creatures, yes, in fact that attribute was the sole justification for her obsession with them. But in the end, even she couldn't delude herself at all costs; they were monsters, they were murderers, and they were in need of an end.

The recent expedition was a failure. She couldn't ignore that. They had lost countless men and women for naught. She couldn't condone that. What was their goal anymore? To continue tossing lives, throwing them under the rug and stomping all over their memories, for a little mileage which, put in ratio with the death toll, seemed so utterly insignificant and bleak that it made Hanji want to laugh until she cried?

Too much blood had been shed. _Too much blood_.

And this time around, she could recognize some of the faces of the fallen. She could remember their smiles during their vigor in life, could recall the mischief in their eyes as she related to them the old mishaps of their captain (only for him to drop in unexpectedly and slap her with his wash cloth). They had been people with quirks, who could rejoice or cry, people with families - other people to grieve them - people with _once-beating hearts._ And now - now they were gone, not out on an errand to return later on, not cleaning into the night with their leader, but legitimately gone; to a better place or to nothingness, Hanji could never know lest she joined them.

The woman sighed and collapsed onto her bed, rolling herself to face the wall on her right. She didn't bother changing out of her uniform, except for her cloak, which she gently tugged up and over her head, pulling it close to her chest. _Wings of freedom, huh?_ she mused, burying her face into the green fabric. _And yet, we are all enslaved by our impending deaths._

Hanji heard the familiar creak of rusty hinges announce a presence at her door, but she merely closed her eyes, neglecting it. If it were a matter of importance, such as a call for a meeting, the person would have been polite enough to knock first. And, judging by the way the individual decided to just barge in already clued her in to their identity.

She didn't catch the footsteps, but she soon felt an extra weight pressing down on the unoccupied portion of her bed. Hanji's smile was melancholic as she turned to greet her 'intruder.'

"Can't sleep?" she asked softly.

Levi stared back at her in the gloom, gaze dull and empty. The room's darkness played off the bags underlining his eyes as well as the overall defeated shadow that clouded the rest of his features. He appeared just as exhausted as Hanji, but undoubtedly more. She didn't recognize this look about him; he'd never displayed such remorse before, always keeping it to himself or drowning it in a bucket of soapy water along with the usual filth. This was a rare moment of weakness for humanity's strongest soldier; a side to him she'd only ever witnessed tiny, heavily veiled glimpses of.

But, as many others often forgot, Levi was still a human being, with a conscience, regrets, and fears, just as anyone else. Now, his suffering was worsened ten times greater. For this time, it wasn't the mere loss of so many scouts that got to him - no. In their last excursion, he'd lost four extremely capable soldiers and four extremely capable friends. Of course, he'd never admitted it to her or even them, but Hanji realized he wouldn't look so tortured if he hadn't considered those comrades as friends.

Perhaps as anticipated, Levi didn't voice a response. Instead he continued to stare at her, almost awkwardly, misery shown only in the upward furrow of his brows and the slight glaze in his eyes. Hanji felt as though she should prod him to confess his pains, or offer a comforting gesture, but before she could do either of those things, Levi reached for her hand. At first she was baffled, until she registered two of his fingers mildly squeezing the pulse on her wrist. She felt immediately mollified.

Levi shuddered, his other hand coming up to shield his eyes from her view. Hanji tore the hand that wasn't joined with his out from under her side, stretching her arm to let it rest on the middle-left side of his chest. He slowly lowered his hand from his eyes, gazing at her with a broken expression. Her lips turned up at the corners in another bittersweet smile.

"_We're alive_," she mouthed carefully.

Levi squeezed his eyes shut as if to say, _'But it doesn't feel fair.'_

Nevertheless, Hanji closed the distance between them as she pulled him into her arms, resting her chin atop his head. He shoved his cheek into the crook of her neck, fingers still applying some pressure on her wrist's pulse. They each took deep, synchronized breaths, reveling in the fact that they still had one another; that for now, they were both alive and well enough. They were two warm, breathing, living beings with two working hearts. Although inside they felt like decaying remains beneath thin, breakable shells, there was still life that could revive old flames of hope.

"Goodnight, Levi," Hanji whispered into his hair. His reply was a low grunt, making the woman chuckle.

She normally would have been awed; he didn't make any disgusted remarks concerning her smell or her just-slightly greasy skin. He was able to ignore it in favor of simply feeling the presence of another live person.

Hanji was aware that he wouldn't fall asleep, and, in all honesty, she doubted she would have gotten any rest anyway, but this: this was all they really needed at the moment, lying in each others embrace, to help each other get through the night.

* * *

When the first fresh light of morning hit Levi's face, he felt a little bewildered at the sudden warmth that welcomed him when he awoke, not from the sun, but a warmth that surrounded him on all sides, like a soothing barrier. Then he realized that his eyes were staring at skin, someone's neck to be specific, and his head jerked backward for a moment, whatever was encircling his waist loosening their grip.

Before him lay Hanji, mouth widely agape, loud snores grumbling up from her throat. Her hair was all splayed about on the pillow, glasses horribly askew, dressed in full-uniform (now-wrinkled), and her Scouting Legion cloak had found itself stuffed into her armpit at some point during the night.

Levi scoffed.

_What the hell happened last night?_

Then he felt something grasped in his hand, and his eyes followed his arm to the source. Suddenly everything that had transpired the previous night hit him like a tree after a maneuver gear accident.

He was still holding Hanji's wrist. It seemed absurd; how could they have not moved at all in so many hours? Levi was the type of person to fidget while sleeping, and he'd seen Hanji tossing and turning a lot whenever he'd had to wake her up for an early meeting with Irvin. But somehow, he'd held her wrist all night, and he could still feel her blood pumping steadily in her veins.

Levi sensed a foreign sensation of heat tingling his cheeks, causing his eyes to narrow. Hanji's fingers twitched; his face softened at the sight.

He had lost so many people over the years, and four of the most important to him had passed just several days ago. People didn't live long lives in the Recon Corps; it was a simple known fact. Yet despite the many years that had gone by, faces coming and going, come what may, this person - this damned, impulsive, overly-energetic, passionately insane person - had managed to remain as a constant. She always came back from missions, that was also an established fact.

There were others, of course, however Irvin always kept some sort of distance, and Mike was closer to Hanji than he was to Levi. But this was it; he had three people close to him left.

Levi's fingers fumbled past the brunette's wrist up to her own fingers, gingerly interlacing them with his own.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

_Thank you…for staying alive._

He wasn't sure how much longer he would have the luxury of telling her that.

Hanji just snorted, clumsily throwing her free arm across Levi's head. She dragged it back to its former place, practically suffocating him in her tight grip.

"Ugh, Shitty Glasses," Levi grumbled.

Hanji smiled, eyes still closed as she reciprocated his entwined fingers with her own.

"You can stop pretending you're fucking sleeping."

"Hmm? Who's pretending?"

Levi released a long sigh, and Hanji let out the loudest, most unattractive chortle that he'd ever heard in his entire life (which said a lot, considering that he'd been friends with her for quite a portion of it).

But it was beautiful, because it was another reminder that she was still alive, the blitheness in her laugh enough to assure Levi that she would be for some good time to come.

He couldn't help his little half-smile.


End file.
